


Broken, scarred burden.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Answered ask meme answers [15]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Supportive fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10073642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Iwaizumi has a secret. For a long time, he's felt worthless. Numb. Depressed. He's hurt himself because sometimes it's the only thing he can feel.But he'll always love Oikawa, especially when Oikawa takes care of him unconditionally.What happens when Iwaizumi finally tells Oikawa his secret?





	

**Author's Note:**

> "Are you okay? You seem a little off today..."  
> \-----------  
> Contains descriptive self-harm and injury!  
> Remember to bandage properly, kids.

Oikawa was early. They’d planned to go out today, to check out that new cafe and see a movie, but they’d agreed to meet at their normal spot at _10am_. Oikawa was early, in Iwaizumi’s room, at _**half nine**_. It usually wouldn’t have been a problem, except for one thing.

Iwaizumi was in the bathroom and his bandages were in a drawer next to his bed. Beads of red slowly trailed from deliberate cuts on his thighs. He was sat with his back to the bathroom door, trying to focus on controlling his breathing whilst his heart raced with panic because Oikawa was _early_.

“Iwa-chan, hurry up!”

“I-... G-give me a minute!” He wouldn’t be able to bandage it. Instead, he would have to work with what he had. A quick wash with a sponge got rid of the blood trails down his thighs, and applying pressure helped to stop extra bleeding. He didn’t have his bandages, but he did have toilet paper and band aid plasters. It… Wasn’t ideal, but it was all he had.

He folded up the toilet paper to make a neat square just big enough to cover the scars and cuts on each side, then used about 6 plasters to hold them in place. It _really_ wasn’t comfortable, and he couldn’t excuse this as sports bandaging if his shorts rode up either.

His hands shook as he pulled on his clothes, making sure his shorts were low on his hips to cover the toilet paper.

“Iwa-chan, you take so long! Nobody does a poop that big!” He washed his hands and scrubbed them until they were red-raw, paranoid about Oikawa spotting any smudge of blood. Satisfied, he dried them and took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door.

“Shut up, Oikawa. Maybe I had diarrhoea.”

“That’s gross, and way too much information.” Iwaizumi stiffened as Oikawa glanced over him, eyes scanning in deep thought as if he’d already caught something off. Then, just as Iwaizumi could feel his eyes stinging and heart pounding, Oikawa scoffed and shook his head with a helpless sigh.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing _dad shorts_ with a striped shirt. What are you, a 50 year old white man?” Iwaizumi had no retort, biting his tongue in nervousness as he felt a wave of relief and exhaustion sweep through him. It was too early for this. 

“Come on! You owe me a pastry for taking so long!” Oikawa flit out the bedroom and Iwaizumi glanced over to the drawer his bandages were in before swallowing down a lump in his throat.

“Sure.” Oikawa blinked almost in surprise as Iwaizumi trailed after him.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” To try and distract Oikawa from the shock, Iwaizumi laced their fingers together. Oikawa’s expression softened and the corners of his lips curved upwards.

“Showing your love isn’t like you, Iwa-chan~.”

“Just ‘cos I’m not the romantic type, doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” His hand was squeezed, far too gently for Oikawa’s usual physical contact, and his panic spiked again. Had Oikawa already figured something out? Why was he being so gentle? Was he being _careful_?

“... Iwa-chan?” He jolted, and as he replied, his voice cracked and was much too high.

“Y-Yes?!” Oikawa raised an eyebrow with lips pouted slightly in thought.

“I was going to ask if you wanted breakfast before we go. But now, I’m wondering-…” Iwaizumi’s hands were sweaty. All he could think about was the rough way the plasters stretched at his skin and he could feel them curling over and the toilet paper was probably falling apart-

“... - maybe we shouldn’t watch a horror. If it has you jumpy now, I worry you’ll reach the stratosphere afterwards!” _Oh thank **God**_. Iwaizumi fights the urge to collapse in relief.

“Uh, yeah, I- My imagination ran away with the summary last night, aha…” They reach the kitchen and Iwaizumi takes his hand away from Oikawa to grab a plate and stick some bread in the toaster. At least if they’re eating, they won’t be talking. Or walking. He’s scared the impromptu ‘bandage’ won’t work. 

As he’s waiting for the toast to pop up, Oikawa places a gentle hand on Iwaizumi’s back, just resting there for contact before he puts his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder peacefully.

“I worried it would spook you. You’re a softy really, Iwa-chan!”

“Shut up, Oikawa.”

“You cried when Godzilla died.” 

“Sh-Shut up! We agreed not to talk about that!” Oikawa laughs, pressing his cheek against Iwaizumi’s. Much to his credit, _both_ of them jump when the toaster pops up and chuckle. Iwaizumi snatches the toast out and butters both slices, offering Oikawa a bite silently. 

“I think I’ll save room for those sweet, sweet pastries to go with my drink, but thanks Iwa-chan. You really are the sweetest.”

“I’m not.” The muttered words are out before Iwaizumi can stop them and he holds his breath, hoping Oikawa didn’t catch the self-deprecating tone. Oikawa’s eyebrows furrow. He did catch it, but he choses not to comment on it, and the arm he snuck around Iwaizumi’s waist feels him breathe out shakily. 

Something isn’t right.

Iwaizumi carries on like normal, but Oikawa can tell it’s a front. He can _sense_ it. They’ve been best friends since 3, so he can tell when something isn’t right. Or, he’d like to think so, but he’s well aware that Iwaizumi reads him better than Oikawa could ever read Iwaizumi. 

He seems really… Distracted, though. Like something has spooked him and it’s definitely not the idea of watching horror movies.

“I changed my mind, give me a bite.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and holds the toast up to his shoulder for Oikawa to lean forwards, and he steals a _massive_ bite. He waits for Iwaizumi to notice, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“... Shittykawa! I said you could have a bite, not half the slice!” The back of Iwaizumi’s hand smacks against his shoulder with controlled gentleness, and Oikawa almost chokes as he laughs around the full mouthful. Iwaizumi chuckles huskily at Oikawa’s idiot move, but melts into his embrace as they finish eating, sharing the toast between them.

“That would have been better with jam.”

“If you wanted jam, you should have made your own.”

“I _was_ trying to save space for cafe goodies, but then Iwa-chan was taking too long.”

“That’s because you were early.” Oikawa detangles himself from Iwaizumi, although still keeps his hand wrapped around Iwaizumi’s wrist.

“Come on, come on! It’s cafe time!” 

“Al _right_ , I’m coming!” Iwaizumi tugs his wrist away and rubs at it where Oikawa has left slight pressure marks. It feels _good_. It hurts and it feels good. It feels like something, which is more than nothing. It feels like what he wants, what he thinks he deserves.

It hurts, and he wants it to hurt. His thighs suddenly tingle as his thought drifts to them and he bites his lip because hurting wasn’t enough. He was supposed to still be upstairs. He was supposed to be bleeding for another couple of minutes, then doing up the bandages before going to meet Oikawa.

But Oikawa had been early, and Oikawa had turned up at his house, and Iwaizumi hadn’t spent long enough with his scars and blood to feel grounded. 

Everything seems far too loud, too much happening at once, and he’s _sensitive_ to even the slightest change in his surrounding. It’s overbearing and he feels sick as they walk hand in hand to the cafe.

It’s only Oikawa’s hand that stops him from running to the closest cramped, dark place he can think of. He wants to cry, but he doesn’t because he can’t let Oikawa know. If Oikawa finds out, he’ll have to stop. 

He doesn’t want to stop. Some day, pain is all he can feel, and inflicting it reminds him he’s alive. It’s not ideal, but that’s how things work. _It’s what I deserve._

“Iwa-chan, what did you want?” He blinks, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He can feels trembles down his spine and in his hands, and his head pounds, mouth dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton wool.

“H-huh?”

“What drink do you want?” Another blink or six, and Iwaizumi’s blurry vision clocks on that they’re _in_ the cafe. It’s nice. Shades of blue and cream instead of the usual browns. 

Oikawa squeezes his hand and Iwaizumi looks to him to notice the deep frown tugging at his lips, the way his brows furrow. The person behind the counter is waiting to take his order, and he looks up at the menu as if he could somehow read it through swirling vision.

Now he really wants to cry.

“I- I’ll have - um… I’ll have… A Mocha?” Luckily, it appears to be on the menu because the employee sets to work. Iwaizumi sighs quietly, and he feels Oikawa’s thumb stroke over the back of his hand.

“Iwa-chan, are you still sleepy~?”

“... Mhm. A little.” Not his best excuse, but it’ll do.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get the cinnamon and honey latte!” The chalk on the menu is starting to form letters he can recognise, and sure enough, there’s a cinnamon and honey latte just three lines above the Mocha.

“Oh. No, I… I thought it was too early for that. Maybe if we come here in the afternoon.” 

“Hmmm… Okay. It’s a date.”

“We’re already _on_ a date, stupid.” Warm breath brushes over his cheek as Oikawa laughs quietly and presses his lips to the corner of Iwaizumi’s, right where his dimples usually formed.

That reminds Oikawa he hasn’t seen those dimples in a while. He hasn’t seen Iwaizumi _smile_ in a while, and paired with his strange behaviour, that sets alarm bells ringing. Something is most _**definitely**_ wrong. 

He’s about to ask when their orders are suddenly passed over, and Oikawa takes them both since Iwaizumi’s hands still appear to shake. Iwaizumi trails behind him as they go over to the tall chairs at one of the towering tables. 

Iwaizumi gulps. He might be tall, but even he’ll have to step on the bar to get on the seat, as Oikawa does, elegantly and fluently. He can’t do it. He _can’t_ do it. It’ll put too much stress on his thighs, it could break the skin again, the plasters could come off and he already feels them curling around the edges and if they come off so does the toilet paper and then his thighs will rub together and-

“Iwa-chan! It’s getting cold!” He licks his dry lips.

“Right…Can we- Can we sit somewhere else?”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just- Please.” Oikawa nods immediately, slipping from the tall seat. He can detect the tone of pleading, as much as he knows Iwaizumi is trying to hold it back, and when Iwaizumi says please without a teasing or affectionate nickname tacked on, it’s serious. Right now, Oikawa is slightly afraid.

“Okay.” They relocate to a corner, sinking into comfy chairs that look like modern armchairs, white and soft with fluffy blue cushions. As they sip at their drinks, Oikawa with one leg casually over the other, Iwaizumi hunched over with his knees pressed together, the Setter scans over his Ace with narrowed eyes.

_Something’s upset you, Iwa-chan, and I **will** find out._

“... Why are you staring at me?” Before Oikawa can think of something witty or clever, his mouth works quicker than his mind.

“Are you okay? You seem a little off today…” He watches Iwaizumi stiffen, eyes widening and shoulders hunching up defensively. His eyes flicker away, darting anywhere except Oikawa’s face as he grips his drink so tightly, that it might break.

Oikawa leans forwards and gently eases the drink out of Iwaizumi’s hands, placing it next to his own mug on the small knee-height table between them. He takes Iwaizumi’s hands in his own, holding them securely and reassuringly.

“Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan, look at me. _Hajime_.” Green eyes snap up to meet his own, and Oikawa is taken aback by the fact they’re wet and ready to overflow. Iwaizumi _never_ cries unless it’s intense, damaging, or scary movies. 

The last time he cried was when they lost against Karasuno. Without words, one of Oikawa’s hands moves from Iwaizumi’s to his face, gently stroking a thumb over his cheek and catching a tear as it trails down.

Iwaizumi closes his eyes and leans into the touch, heart sinking into his stomach. He failed. He couldn’t keep it hidden. Oikawa knows. Oikawa will make him stop and he doesn’t want to stop, he wants to _hurt_.

“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. Just know that I love you; I’m here for you; and if you need me; I’ll pull through.” He swallows, shakily raising his left hand to press over Oikawa’s on his cheek.

“I- I want to go home… I’m sorry for ruining our date, I just- I want to go home.” Oikawa gently shushes him and Iwaizumi opens his eyes just in time to see Oikawa leaning towards him, pressing their foreheads together. It’s only for a peaceful heartbeat, and then Oikawa presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s forehead instead.

“It’s okay to have bad days. When I have bad days, you never force me out the house. You immediately cancel our date, and you keep me company instead. You _spoil_ me, Hajime, and you make me feel loved even when I feel like nothing. So- So let me do the same for you.”

“.. Okay…”

“Let’s get you home.” Iwaizumi nods and allows Oikawa to lead him out the coffee shop. He fidgets uncomfortable as they walk, feeling scraps of the toilet paper ripping off with friction and falling down his pants legs. The thought of a little trail embarrasses him, but still, he says nothing.

It’s when they’re still ten minutes from home that he realises the pain he’s been feeling isn’t just his thighs rubbing together. No, it’s the newly formed scabs coming off. He pales as he realises that at least one of the cuts is bleeding again. 

He can feel a droplet rolling down his leg and subtly pats his shorts to let the material soak it up. Better that than have it trail down and have questions asked. 

Adjusting himself every few minutes earns him a strange look from Oikawa and he holds his breath as he averts his gaze. But now, Oikawa’s eyes are on him. He can’t hide anything, because he’ll definitely be seen patting down his shorts. _Especially_ if he directs Oikawa’s gaze to the surely bloodsoaked patch.

But… Would it really be too bad to tell him? He trusted Oikawa with all his soul, loved him with all his heart, and had known him practically all his life. 

He knows Oikawa would make him stop, but…

Wasn’t stopping what he needed to do? Maybe if he stopped, he would feel less… Ugly. Scarred. _Broken_.

“Always be a burden though…”

“Wha- Hajime, _what_?!” Uh-oh. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He swallows down a lump in his throat as Oikawa stares at him in betrayal, eyes watering with hurt.

“I… I’ll tell you more when we get home.” His voice is brittle, and Oikawa nods in understanding. The problem is; they’re still a full minute from home when Iwaizumi’s thighs can’t take any more rubbing together without a bandage for protection.

“A-Ah…” He wedges a hand between his thighs, slightly hunched over with a wince. 

“Haji-”

“My cuts are bleeding.”

“Your- Your cuts?” Biting his lip, Iwaizumi looks down at the ground instead of at his boyfriend. 

“I cut myself earlier. Thighs. Would’ve bandaged it but you were early…” Oikawa blinks. His mouth gapes like a fish and Iwaizumi tenses up as he waits for a reply. He waits for Oikawa to either start sympathetically blubbering, or shout at him for being so stupid. He doesn’t expect to suddenly be swept into a bridal style hold.

“Let me take care of you, okay?”

“... Okay.” He rests in Oikawa’s arms, letting the setter jog the final short distance to Iwaizumi’s house, since it was closer, and only has to move again to get his key out from his shorts pocket. His shorts, of course, have a large patch of blood on them and Oikawa is frightened to say the least. That much blood can’t be good. 

He doesn’t put Iwaizumi down until they reach the bedroom, and he’s extremely gentle as he lays Iwaizumi on the bed.

“What do you need?”

“Damp sponge, skin tape, bandages. I’ll get the bandages.”

“No you will _not_ , you stay right there.” Iwaizumi huffs, cheeks puffing out with irritation because he could get his things together perfectly fine. He’s done this many times before. He does, however, relent and allow Oikawa to gather the items - although he’s adamant on removing his shorts himself.

His boxers are pushed up to reveal his thighs and Oikawa winces. Some are new, some are old, some are shallow, some are deep. With his little knowledge of how quickly skin heals, he can guess Iwaizumi’s been doing this…

Since around the time they lost preliminaries for the last time.

“Oh, Iwa-chan… Hajime…”

“Don’t pity me. Get angry, or cry, or do _something_ \- I don’t give a shit - but _don’t_ pity me.” Oikawa pauses in carefully patting the sponge on Iwaizumi’s left thigh and looks up at him with eyes half-lidded because no matter what Iwaizumi says, Oikawa can’t help but feel like he could have somehow prevented it getting this bad.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you start, Hajime?” A bitter, choked laugh sounds from Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s nose wrinkles in concern as he continues to wash away the blood.

“Because I’m a piece of shit.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I _am_.” Oikawa bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to immediately protest Iwaizumi’s opinion of himself. It wouldn’t do any good to just keep pushing. As he picks up the roll of bandages and unwinds it, he keeps his voice stern, but soft.

“Tell me why you think that way. And I’ll tell you every way that you _aren’t_.” Iwaizumi stares at him with darkened eyes, filled with self-hatred and Oikawa wants to kiss it away.

He knows that won’t work, though, especially not in the long term. He nudges Iwaizumi’s leg up onto his shoulder for easier access to his thigh and starts wrapping the bandage around with skill and dexterity.

“I-... I’m supposed to be so much better… Everyone always says I’m so great, so athletic, so skilled, but I’m _not_. I failed, Tooru. I failed! I was supposed to take you to nationals, I was supposed to get a scholarship into university, I was supposed to be _happy_! But none of that happened! I couldn’t even save your knee! I- I’m worthless…”

His legs are trembling. Oikawa can feel him shaking, and he takes his eyes away from the bandages and scars to look at Iwaizumi’s face. He has one arm thrown over his eyes, but there’s no hiding the trails of saltwater down the sides of his face. His other hand bundles in the bedcovers, gripping as tight as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, expression torn between self-loathing and sadness. 

He looks like he’s lost every hope in the world, and Oikawa can only wish he’d intervened sooner.

“Hajime.” He waits until wet, green eyes look at him, and then leans forwards and presses a soft, tender kiss to the tip of Iwaizumi’s nose.

“Even if you didn’t do any of those things, you did so much _more_. You inspire people. You encourage them, you push us forward. My knee happened because of my own stupidity, there’s no way you could have stopped it, not even if you had handcuffed me to your side.” He pauses to huff a little in amusement at the mental imagery, well aware they’re constantly by each other’s sides anyways.

“You’re in Class 5, and I know you’ll make university look just as easy as everything else you do. Because you try so hard and practice constantly and Hajime… The amount of effort you put in is superhuman. When people talk about you being good at everything… They have no idea how much you’ve revised and trained and _learnt_. Not to mention the amount of times you do it for someone else.”

Oikawa kisses his cheek gently, and presses a hand over Iwaizumi’s heart soothingly.

“You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t measure your worth by what you can’t do, Hajime, because you are worth every star in the sky. You are worth every raindrop in the desert, every kiss on your skin, every song in the world.” Iwaizumi opens his mouth to protest and Oikawa shakes his head to cut him off before he even says anything.

“ _Everything_.” There’s a moment of silence where Iwaizumi closes his eyes and tries to stop himself crying, and Oikawa finishes wrapping up his thighs.

“Okay, that should do it. Tomorrow, you’re going to sit on the bench and analyse gameplay because I am _not_ letting you play with risk of injury.”

“But-!”

“No buts! Except your butt, on the bench.” His gaze softens when he sees the bewildered and betrayed look Iwaizumi is giving him.

“Just for one day, Hajime. Just until these are scabbed over.” He brushes his thumb over Iwaizumi’s thigh and feels it tense beneath his touch.

“Fine.” Iwaizumi is pouting. Well, that’s better than the fragile frown he wore earlier. Oikawa breathily laughs, nuzzling into Iwaizumi’s nest of a hairstyle.

“Now close your eyes and rest. You’re exhausted.” With a quiet hum, Iwaizumi shuffles onto his side, nudging Oikawa to lie next to him, and snuggles in under Oikawa’s chin. A soft hand circling his back and feather-light kisses to his head guide him into a light doze, letting fatigue take over.

“Tooru…?”

“Yes, Haji?” He shuffles before he replies, whispering into Oikawa’s collarbone.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, much more than you could ever imagine.”

“To the moon and back…?”

“And all the way to galaxy cluster Abell 1835.” Iwaizumi snorts and Oikawa’s lips quirk up because it sounds like a tiny, restrained laugh.

“I don’t know where that is, dummy.”

“Very far away~. Now shhh. Sleep. I’ll look after you.” 

“Mhm. Love you.” The soft mumble, the press of lips against his skin, is the last thing Oikawa registers from Iwaizumi before he finally drops into a dreamless sleep. With Iwaizumi asleep, Oikawa allows himself to quietly cry, upset that he didn’t notice how Iwaizumi felt earlier, how he had _no idea_ it was this bad.

It’s going to take a lot of help and a long time to make him feel better.  
But Oikawa will stand by his side with love, unshakable, unconditional.


End file.
